Eclipse
When TNT decided in the offseason to put the Phoenix Suns on twice a week, they figured they'd be getting a monster-truck rally featuring Amare Stoudemire, Quentin Richardson, and Joe Johnson, along with the league's MVP and a serious X-factor in Shawn Marion. They must be regretting that decision now that the Suns are depending on James Jones and Boris Diaw, who should have been numbers eight and nine off the bench, at best. If tonight's three-and-a-half hour foofaraw in the Valley is any indication, the games will certainly be entertaining. But speaking for all Suns fans, who are, I realize, a distinct minority in this world, I would rather see an unequivocal 20-point blowout win than a three-point double-overtime loss to a team that played most of the game like someone was putting Xanax in their Gatorade.
Around 11:30 tonight, I was getting ready to make fun of Dallas center Erick Dampier, the slowest, dumbest player in the NBA, and the newly sedate Mavericks coach Avery Johnson, who this week admitted that he watches game films of himself, and not from his playing days, either. Coach Narcissus sucked helplessly on his towel for three and a half quarters. Then Dirk Nowitski remembered that Stoudemire is on the sidelines in a knee brace, and the Dirkster started draining shots like the superstar who led Germany to second place in the European championships, a huge accomplishment on par with making the CBA playoffs.
But I digress. Instead, I must decry Suns owner Robert Sarver and his ridiculous foam orange finger, though it's kind of nice to see face-painted chucklenuts crowd the arena in Phoenix, which traditionally has boasted a fan base of waxy-faced savings-and-loan executives. Also, I don't know how many times this season I'm going to be able to watch Leandro Barbosa miss a big shot with the game on the line. You're not playing Uruguay anymore, Leandhrino. Would someone tell me again how this happened? How did my team, which last year was the closest thing the NBA has ever had to the Harlem Globetrotters, suddenly become the Washington Generals? Oh, the humanity!
Meanwhile, in the actual NBA, as opposed to a Mark Cuban-funded video game, the Spurs dismantled a pretty good Denver Nuggets team by 11 points. And it only took them 48 minutes to do it.